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philosians · 6 months ago

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ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ

a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.

[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha

word count: roughly 4.8k

The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.

At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.

“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”

“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.

“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”

You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.

After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.

You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.

You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.

Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.

You just wish you knew where you were going.

“Is this it?”

“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”

Oh, already?

True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.

A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?

Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”

The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”

Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.

“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”

Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”

Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”

You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.

“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”

You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.

You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”

You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.

“Always.”

Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.

“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.

Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”

Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.

He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.

“Dinner should be ready.”

You grin. “You brought your chef?”

“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.

You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.

Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.

“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”

Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”

You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”

Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”

His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.

“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.

“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”

The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.

“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”

You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”

But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.

You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.

“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.

You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.

Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.

“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”

He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.

While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.

As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.

He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.

Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.

“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”

The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.

“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”

“It might’ve been,” you tease.

As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.

“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.

He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”

As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.

“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.

His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.

Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.

“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”

Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.

And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.

He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.

When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.

You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”

Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.

You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.

“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”

You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.

You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.

“Impatient?”

“Like you aren’t,” you remark.

Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…

You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.

His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—

Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”

—goddamn it you need it inside of you.

Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.

Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.

You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.

“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”

“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”

Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.

“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”

There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.

Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.

“Sylus?”

“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”

The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.

“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.

He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.

“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”

The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”

All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.

“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.

You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”

His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”

And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”

“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”

“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.

“Well?”

“I, uh— A baby.”

At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.

“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”

His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.

“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”

“It was… just a thought.”

He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.

“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”

Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.

Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.

When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”

You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.

And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.

“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”

He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”

At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.

Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.

Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.

It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”

Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.

“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.

Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.

“With me?”

Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.

“And no one else.”

The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.

Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.

Of course he would.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.

“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.

You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.

“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.

“I wish they would— Sylus!”

A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”

Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”

“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.

Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.

“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”

Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”

Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.

You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”

The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.

Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.

“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.

“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”

“Renovations? For what?”

He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”

Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?

“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.

“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.

You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.

“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”

You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.

What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.

To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.

But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.

And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.

#༄ kasswrites.#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus smut #sylus x y/n #sylus x mc #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader

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clown-demon · 1 year ago

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((I think in about two hours... I'm gonna start working on drafts and queueing them up.. My goal is to have them either posted or queued by Monday before work.

Most will go to the queue, while a select few will be posted..

I'm also gonna shuffle the queue when I fill it.

I rn have 45 drafts.

#Ti speaks #I'm really grateful for everyone who has been so patient #with my new jobs it's just been.. really hectic #All this week I've been doing class for 8 hours for my job...#I also plan to go over the course I just did and study it...

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docrobinavitch · 2 months ago

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chasing ghosts

dr. abbot x f!resident!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, lots of angst, age gap, swearing, alcohol, mentions of child death/multiple casualties at the beginning during a shift words: 8.1K synopsis: you and jack share a kiss during your second year of residency and you spend the next two years trying to outrun those feelings. until the pitt's annual summer party. jack abbot is down absolutely fucking horrendously. like i meaaaaan unprecedented levels of yearning. a/n: hi, i think i blacked out while writing this. eyeeeee had so so much fun. i hope i did jack justice. let me know what you think!!!!

The annual summer party for the Pitt is an all day affair in order to make sure everyone, regardless of who’s working what shift that day, has a chance to stop in.

You wouldn’t think it, but the ER knew how to throw a good party. In the morning, it started with brunch at a place downtown with bottomless mimosas, top tier pancakes, and a drag performance. After brunch, they’d go hang out at the park by the river for a few hours before reconvening for dinner and bar hopping downtown.

Jack Abbot was off today, but still skipped all the morning and afternoon activities in favor of the evening. His sleep schedule was built that way now and even on his off days, it was rare for him to be out during the day. Besides, he was hoping he’d run into you there after your own shift.

You never came to these types of events, but that didn’t stop him from hoping every time. His eyes were always searching, hoping they’d stumble upon yours.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to you much in the last two years, since you switched to the day shift. When shift change occurred, you largely avoided him. He asked Robby about you and Robby always said the same thing, “She’s a great doctor, but she keeps to herself.”

It hadn’t been like that when you were on the night shift. You were shy, sure, but it hadn’t taken Jack very long to pry you out of your shell.

He wondered sometimes if you regretted it, now. Letting him in.

Now, he was making the rounds at the first bar of the night, not so subtly looking for you.

“You’re pathetic,” Robby teased as he sipped his beer.

“Huh?” Jack said, finally bringing his eyes back to the man in front of him.

Robby smirked knowingly, “She is here, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” He said, “But her boyfriend is supposed to be meeting her here.”

His heart stuttered in his chest, “Boyfriend?”

Robby nodded, “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone until today. I overheard her mention it to Heather.”

Fuck. Not only were you seeing someone, you were bringing him here, to meet everyone in the Pitt. You must’ve been serious about him, then.

“Do you know where she is?”

Robby tilted his head as he looked at Jack, “You sure you wanna go down that road?”

“I just want to talk to her.” He said, and it was true. Mostly.

The two of you hadn’t had a real conversation since the week before you had requested the shift change. That night on the roof. He felt it was long overdue for the two of you to sit down and talk about it like adults. Maybe Robby was right, maybe it was much too late for that.

But Jack couldn’t accept that.

Robby sighed heavily, “I saw her go upstairs to the rooftop bar with Heather and Samira twenty minutes ago.”

“Thanks, brother.” Jack clapped him on the back as he headed up the stairs.

***

You liked the quiet of the night time. Being awake and working when everyone else was asleep brought with it a sort of peaceful solitude you couldn’t quite explain.

But Jack hadn’t needed you to explain, he had understood it intrinsically.

The night shift, of course, could become hectic and even nightmarish at times. But if you stepped outside for some air, either on the roof or the ambulance bay, the quiet of the night cocooned you in safety.

And that’s where you were that night two years ago, on the roof and leaning over the railing, trying to catch your breath.

There had been a six car pile up almost immediately rushed in after the day shift had trickled out. Ten patients. Four of them were in critical condition when they arrived, in that terrible purgatory between life and death. For five hours, you, Abbot, Shen, and Ellis had bounced between them. Still, you lost all four of them.

You had kept it together for the half hour after you had called the last patient, despite the fact that you had felt Jack’s eyes on you the whole time.

But he seemed able to keep it together, to not fall apart, so you would too. The knee jerk response to impress him, to make him proud of you had never quite dulled in your two years of residency. It felt a bit fucking pathetic, actually.

Worse, still, that he seemed to notice how badly you craved his validation and so gave it freely.

“Hey,” He stepped close to you, his warm breath caressing your cheek, “Go take a break, I’ll come find you in fifteen.”

“I don’t need a break.” You said quickly.

“You do,” He said, undeterred, “You’ve been staring dead eyed at the board for the last two minutes. Shen tried to call you over for a code stroke thirty seconds ago and you didn’t blink.”

You turned to him finally, panic on your face, “Fuck, seriously?”

You started to walk to go find Shen and the stroke patient, but Jack grabbed your arm, “Nope, uh-uh. Break first. Now.”

It was rare that Jack wasn’t joking with you, trying to make you smile. Now he looked deadly serious. Like he would physically remove you from the floor himself if you refused. You must’ve looked like shit.

“Okay.” You said finally, “Fine.”

He released your arm, but his eyes trained on your every step as you walked away, “I catch you on a patient in the next fifteen minutes and I’m sending you home.” He called after you.

You raised your hand over your head in a thumbs up to signal that you’d heard and kept walking.

And that was how you ended up on the roof. Bathed in the moonlight with the quiet midnight streets of Pittsburgh below, silent tears streamed down your cheeks as you greedily sucked the night air into your lungs.

You weren’t aware of time passing and your mind had gone blissfully blank until you heard him come up behind you.

“How come you, Ellis, or Shen didn’t need a break?” You asked, your voice wavering, “Is there something wrong with me?”

He leaned over the railing at your side and turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his eyes, knowing they’d be soft and warm and inviting. You did not need to see him looking at you like that right now. Just like you had been trying not to notice the way he watched you more than the others, touched you more than was necessary, handed out praise to you more generously.

“Not even a little bit.” He said softly, voice rough, “You were perfect down there. Nothing else you could have done.“

You breathed out a shaky breath, “Then why does it feel so bad?”

“Because you’re human,” He said softly, “And because you were the only one of us to call time of death on a seven year old tonight.”

You swallowed, tilting your head up towards the sky so you could see the moon. A moon that seven year old kid would never see again. “Does it ever hurt less?”

“Fuck, no.” He sighed, “But it makes you a better doctor, I think. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself to try to make it all mean something.”

Finally, you looked at him, and the sight of your red rimmed eyes wrecked him, “It does make you a better doctor,” You hiccuped and gave him a small smile, “The best, probably.”

He shook his head, smirking, and looked down at his hands, “Careful, kid. You keep talking like that, I might think you actually like me.”

Feeling brave, you nudged your shoulder against his, “I mean it. I feel really grateful that you’re my attending. I wouldn’t want to learn under anyone else.”

He pushed his shoulder back against yours and your hands brushed where they each grasped the railing, “I came up here to make you feel better and somehow you’re the one comforting me. How did you get so good at deflecting?”

You laughed through your tears and he relished the sound, “I learned from the best,” You said pointedly as you looked over at him.

“See,” He pointed at you, teasing, “That’s what I’m talking about. Much better. You’re way less unsettling when you’re mean.”

You smiled and he found himself staring at your mouth, enraptured by it, really. The truth was, he had noticed the ways in which he was better when he was around you. Both as a doctor and a teacher. You made him want to be better. He knew he had been giving you more attention than the others, bordering on an inappropriate amount. And he knew, before he came up to the roof, that he’d have a hard time being alone with you and not imagining what you taste like or what your soft skin would feel like under his calloused hands.

He thought you felt the same, but you could be hard to read sometimes. Sometimes, he swore you leaned into his touch, other times you jumped away from it as if he had burned you. Sometimes you went whole days seemingly trying to avoid him, others you followed him around like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head and for him to tell you what a good girl you are.

But now, fuck, now you were gazing at his mouth, too. And he tried, really fucking tried, to rein in the desire. He shouldn’t have kissed you. And he would think about it every day for days and weeks and months and years how badly he wished he could take it back. Not because he didn’t mean it or didn’t want it, but because it had started this downward spiral of silence and distance until you were so far away he hadn’t really seen you up close in two years. If he could go back, he would’ve told himself it wasn’t worth it. Because having only this much of you day in and day out while he yearned for more was better than having nothing at all, than you slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

But he didn’t know then what he knew now.

Cautiously, he moved his face towards yours, waiting for you to pull back. But inch by inch he moved, and you stayed put. And when he was close enough to share breath with you, he met your eyes and was greeted with pupils that had completely devoured your irises. No color in sight, just an endless abyss of desire and want. Your breath faltered when his lips just barely brushed yours, and he stilled for a moment before his self restraint crumbled.

The kiss was hesitant and gentle, at first. Jack kept his hands to himself, slowly kissed you in a way that repeatedly seemed to ask Is this okay? Is this alright? Are you okay? Are you sure?

It was you who deepened the kiss first, tongue darting out to swipe gently at his lower lip.

And the cord between you, that was already so tenuous and frayed, snapped.

His hands shook as he touched you, moving from your waist, to your neck, to your face. It was like his body knew first what his brain didn’t, that he was taking too much and not enough, that hours and days and months and years of touching you would never satiate him anyway and he should just fucking quit while he was ahead. His traitorous mouth that moaned into yours was a bottomless, greedy pit and it could never have you, not really, not even as it sucked desperately at your neck in a useless attempt to mark you as his.

The marks would fade and you would fade from him along with them.

He thinks now he probably knew as soon as you pulled away, at the panic in your eyes, that he had lost you before he had even really had the chance to have you.

But he would deny it to himself, even as you ran off the roof ignoring the way your name came out strangled from his throat.

He would deny it when you didn’t look at him the rest of the night, when you pretended not to hear when he tried to talk to you after the shift change that morning.

He would deny it when you handed him your shift change request form after a week of avoiding him, asking for his signature as you looked anywhere but at him.

He would deny it when his broken voice asked “Is this really what you want?” and you only silently nodded.

Jack Abbot knew he had lost you, he wasn’t delusional, but he could convince himself it was only temporary. He was patient. So fucking patient. He’d find you again, when you were ready.

***

Jack could admit that you having a boyfriend had not been part of his plan. Not that he had a plan, more so an overwhelming sense that if he waited long enough, you’d fall back into him.

But you had still been fleeing the ER at shift change without acknowledging him. He was patient, but it aggravated him to no end, the way you seemed so unaffected. Sometimes it made him feel like maybe he had made it all up in his head and that you had never wanted him at all. But then the film would play on loop again in his head and he knew he didn’t imagine your blown out pupils or the way you deepened the kiss first or the way you moaned when his mouth plucked bruises from your neck like ripened strawberries.

You had wanted him just as badly, he was sure of that. He just couldn’t understand why you were still acting like he didn’t exist.

When he got to the rooftop and looked around, he found you first at a table in the corner, eyes glued to your phone. Another quick glance around and he saw Heather and Samira talking at the bar.

Perfect. You were alone.

When he crossed the roof and sat in the empty seat next to you and you didn’t immediately look up, he realized you had marked his presence on the rooftop as soon as he got here.

The man was like a fucking sonar to your brain. You knew when he was in the same room as you before your eyes could track him. Tonight was no different.

“You look like you could use a drink.” Jack said.

Oh, you hadn’t realized how much you had missed the pleasant roughness of his voice, how it soothed you effortlessly. It practically sent chills down your spine.

You swallowed, continuing to stare at your phone. The second you met those warm hazel eyes, it would be over for you, you knew. It was the reason you had avoided him so diligently the last two years.

“Heather and Samira are getting me one.”

He wordlessly held his own drink out to you. When you stared blankly at it for a few moments, he shook it lightly, ice rattling against the glass, “It’s just a tequila soda. It’s not poison.”

Against your better judgment, and perhaps to indulge that stupid fucking instinct in your head that demanded you not disappoint him, you took it from him. You did your best not to pay attention to the sensation that shot across your skin when your fingers brushed, but the traitorous goosebumps spread across your arms anyway.

You took a sip and handed it back to him, still looking at your phone.

“Why aren’t you with them at the bar?”

“I had to take a call.”

“From your boyfriend?” Finally, fucking finally, you looked at him. It was disdain all over your face, but fuck it, he’d take it. He smirked and held his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t ask, Robby told me. Said he was meeting you here.”

Quickly, you looked back at your phone and he saw your throat bob, “He called to say he couldn’t make it, so.”

Jack watched you carefully, the way you frowned and your mouth turned down just slightly. You were upset, and not just at him.

“I’m sorry,” He said softly, but you scoffed at his apology and shook your head. And that pissed him off, “Look, you may fuckin’ hate me, but I still care about you and I mean it. I’m sorry if he stood you up. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

You rubbed at your forehead in agitation, “I don’t hate you. I’ve never fucking hated you. That’s the problem.”

Well, that was news to him. But he decided not to comment on it. He didn’t want to piss you off anymore than he already had, which seemed to be an awful lot considering he had just got here.

“How long have you been together?” You shot him that annoyed look again, “Christ, I’m just making conversation.”

“Right,” You said sarcastically and shook your head, but you answered all the same, “Two and a half years.” You said quietly. It hadn’t quite caught up to you yet, what you were admitting when telling him that. It took a couple of moments for your brain to catch up, but by then it was too late.

But Jack’s brain was already there, making the mental calculations you had long forgotten about.

Two and a half—? No, that—That couldn’t be right. Because that would mean—

Your face and ears had reddened and you wouldn’t look at him.

Jack’s ears were ringing. He started to say your name—

“Dr. Abbot,” Heather and Samira were back, the latter handing you a drink, “Catching up with your old resident?”

He forced a smile and stood, acted like his world wasn’t fucking falling apart around him, like you hadn’t just dropped a fucking bomb on him in casual conversation.

He was impressed with his ability to hold damn near cheerful conversation with Heather and Samira until he was able to excuse himself.

And this time, it was you who called after him when he left the roof.

“Jack,” Your voice was a soft plea behind him. It was a language he used to be fluent in, but clearly, he didn’t fucking know you anymore. He was starting to think he never had, “Jack, wait—“

He rounded on you in the stairwell, you still a couple of steps above him so the two of you were eye level, “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

You seemed to be caught off guard that he had actually stopped, and just blinked at him for a moment, “What difference would it have made?”

“What difference—?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “All this time I’ve been driving myself out of my goddamn mind trying to figure out what I did wrong when it turns out I was your fucking, what, side piece? Affair?”

“Affair?” You hissed incredulously, “We kissed once!”

He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, “Does he know?”

“What?”

He was quickly becoming frustrated with your inability to keep up with the urgency this situation demanded. To him, at least, the whole world had shifted around him. And you were behaving as if he was the one acting crazy.

“Your boyfriend, does he know? About us?”

“Jack,” You said breathlessly, “There is no us. There was never an us.”

Jack shook his head, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked, exasperated.

“I’ve been pining after you for two fucking years and you’ve compartmentalized so goddamn well that you’ve convinced yourself it was nothing. That it meant nothing.”

For a second, he thought he saw a flicker of the version of you he used to know. Your face faltered for just a second, but then the walls were immediately back up, “I don’t owe you anything.” You said coldly, “It’s not my fault you’ve spent the last two years chasing a ghost.”

You stared each other down for a few more moments, the rage pulsating between you, before Jack broke your stare by tossing back the rest of his drink, “You’re right,” He said finally, and turned away from you to head down the stairs, “I’m sorry I disrupted your evening. Won’t happen again.”

You sighed, “Jack—“

“It’s Dr. Abbot,” He said coldly, turning back to face you again, “If you don’t mind.”

Your face fell marginally and he almost took it back when he thought he saw your lower lip wobble, but he couldn’t be sorry. If you wanted to pretend like there was nothing between the two of you, then he would do the same.

He turned again and jogged down the rest of the stairs. He needed another drink. Or seven.

***

Your hands were shaking. You stood in the stairwell staring stupidly after Jack for longer than was acceptable. You couldn’t go back upstairs to Heather and Samira like this, they’d know something was up. And you certainly couldn’t follow after Jack.

You should just go home. It was a stupid fucking idea to come here in the first place, you knew it was. And still you had come, why?

Because some part of you wanted to see him? No matter how much you denied it? Never mind the fact you had basically only invited your boyfriend because you knew his presence would keep you accountable if you were forced to be alone with Jack?

You hadn’t wanted him here, not really. Not for reasons that made sense. If you were honest with yourself, which you hadn’t been in a long, long time, your relationship had been over for at least six months.

Seeing Jack again, hearing his voice again made that very clear to you. And a part of you hated Jack for it. You had been able to convince yourself for two years that your current relationship was as good as it would get. Your mistake with Jack on the roof was just that, a mistake. Nothing more.

You had thought after all this time Jack must’ve felt the same. He fucked up and kissed his hot, younger resident, just once. He hadn’t meant to and he would be glad it was all over. You had been doing him a favor, you thought.

But when you had allowed yourself to look at him, really look at him tonight, that hadn’t been what you’d seen. In fact, he was angry with you. He had looked at you with such hurt and betrayal as if all this time he had been in love with you.

It didn’t make any fucking sense. You sat in the stairwell and pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. None of it made any fucking sense.

You should go home.

***

Robby eyed Jack with silent suspicion when he joined him back at the bar and ordered two tequila sodas. He knocked the first one back in one go and then rested his head in his hands on the bar top.

“So it went well, I take it?” Robby asked mildly.

Jack glared at Robby and then looked back at his drink, “She has a boyfriend.”

Robby nodded, “Right. I’m glad we’re on the same page about that, now.”

Jack shook his head and felt the tequila make its way through him, “No, you see, she’s had a boyfriend. Since before she moved to the day shift. The same one.”

Robby was silent for a moment, then, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jack knocked back his second tequila soda and ordered another.

“Alright, I can see you’re upset, but all the tequila sodas in the world aren’t going to make you feel better.”

“No,” Jack agreed, “But maybe it’ll stop me from thinking about her for just a while.”

Just then, as Robby was trying to subtly get the bartender to cut off Jack, Robby’s phone buzzed with a text from Heather.

What did Abbot say to Y/N? Found her crying in the stairwell. She won’t stop.

He sighed heavily and turned back to Jack, “You made her cry?”

“What?” Jack looked at him incredulously, “No.”

“Heather says she’s sobbing in the stairwell.”

Oh, he hated the way that sent an ache through him. There was a time when he would’ve taken off running to get to you if he had heard that. Maybe even just earlier today. Not now, though.

“Believe me, her eyes were fucking bone dry when I left her.”

Robby’s phone buzzed again.

Never mind. Finally got her to say something coherent. Broke up with her boyfriend over the phone. Nothing to do with Abbot.

Christ. Nothing to do with Abbot. Right, Robby thought and rubbed a hand down his face, somehow he doubted that very much.

Robby looked back at his friend, debating if he should deliver this news to Jack or not. But Jack was very drunk now and he’d probably just tear after you like a man on a mission. Neither of you needed that right now, Robby thought. He’d tell Jack in the morning.

***

Heather and Samira sat on either side of you as you tried and failed to explain everything to them. You were very bad at this. Having work friends. Shen and Ellis had tolerated you, always including you, buying you coffee, but you knew really you were mostly third wheeling. And you hadn’t minded it. You had always tried to draw a firm line between your work and personal life, which is probably why the situation with Jack fucked you up so badly.

Heather started again, “So you and Abbot—“

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you switched to the day shift.”

“Yes.”

“And Jack also wanted you moved to the day shift?”

This is where things got murky for you. Tiredly, you rubbed your eyes, “I don’t know what Jack wanted because I never asked.”

“He didn’t know about your boyfriend then, either?”

You shook your head slowly, “I thought the fact that I was his resident was excuse enough. I left because I didn’t trust myself around him and I thought it’d be easier on us both.”

“And today was the first time you’d really spoken in two years?”

“Yes.”

“And this one conversation spurred you to break up with your long term boyfriend on a whim?”

You looked at Heather and smirked, “So you’re getting it now? Why I should be institutionalized?”

Heather and Samira both laughed, but Heather shook her head, “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re finally being honest with yourself about your feelings. Which is really fucking brave.”

“I say we go to the next bar and get very drunk.” Samira said, standing.

“Oh, I— No,” You shook your head, panicking, “What if he’s there?”

“Oh, I hope he is.” Heather laughed and the two of them linked arms with you.

***

Robby walked silently next to Jack as they made their way to the next bar, his hands stuffed in his pockets, “Brother, I really think maybe you should just sleep this one off.”

Jack turned to Robby, “It’s only 10 PM which is roughly 10 AM by my standards. So there will be no sleeping from me for a while. But you, by all means, can go home.”

Robby inhaled slowly through his nose. He was fucking exhausted, but he didn’t trust Jack in this state. And he had seen you go off with Heather and Samira not too long ago, headed in the same direction they were walking in right now.

So he kept walking, eyeing Jack every so often until they got to the bar.

He should have just gone home, probably.

Because once they got to the bar, all hell broke loose.

***

The room was spinning. The text had come in just moments after back to back lemon drop shots and your vision was blurred. You were unsure if it was from tears or the alcohol.

“Hey, what happened?” Samira was shouting in your ear over the din of the bar.

You passed the phone to her wordlessly as you ordered another shot. You needed to be belligerent if you were going to survive this.

Samira’s jaw dropped as she watched the video. She scrubbed back and forth a few times before she handed the phone back to you.

“This is the boyfriend who couldn’t meet you here because of ‘work’?”

You nodded.

“Well, you made the right call then, breaking up with him.”

You laughed humorlessly, and then you were sobbing, “I don’t know… why I care…” You hiccuped, “I don’t think I’ve loved him for a long time.”

Samira sighed, rubbing a hand down your back, “It sounds like you tried really hard to salvage the relationship. Probably feels like a waste of almost three years of your life now,” This renewed your sobs and Samira looked at you with alarm, “I’m not saying I think you wasted three years, I just mean, it probably felt that way— I’m gonna go find Heather, she’s much better at this sort of thing.”

Alone, you ordered a drink and wiped at your cheeks. You knew Jack was next to you before you smelt his cologne and sighed heavily.

“Don’t worry,” He said softly, “I’m just getting a drink and then I’ll go as far away from you as possible.”

You only nodded. The man you had chosen to fight for had stood you up to go to a bar across town and make out with the coworker he swore for months you had nothing to worry about while your best friend unknowingly filmed him from across the room.

The man you were beginning to suspect had been in love with you for close to four years now, you had spent the last two years running away from and now he hated you.

It felt like a big cosmic joke.

You rested your head on your arms and willed him away so you wouldn’t have to confront the long string of bad decisions you’d made that had led you here.

But Jack just couldn’t resist when you looked so miserable, “Are you alright, kid? Hate seeing you like this.”

You pushed your head up and met his eyes. Despite your earlier argument, he was looking at you with tenderness and concern. He meant it, that he cared, you could see it all over him. It made you want to burst into tears again. And maybe that’s why you decided to poke the bear, see how far you could push, what would make him really, truly loathe you? It was what you deserved after all, right?

You turned your head away from him and unlocked your phone, tapping to the video your friend had sent, hitting play and sliding it over the bar top to Jack, “You’ll be happy to know this is what my boyfriend was too busy doing to meet me tonight. Some sort of fucked up karma, I suppose.”

Jack’s face betrayed nothing as he watched the video, but you thought maybe a muscle in his jaw ticked. He slid the phone back to you, “Whatever you think of me, I’m not enjoying this.”

You scoffed and shook your head, looking down at the bar top.

“I’m serious. I would never—“ You hear him sigh in frustration, “Just because I’m hurting doesn’t mean I wish you were hurting, too. If anything, if you were happy, maybe it’d all make more sense to me.”

He tapped his finger on top of your phone case, “That guy’s a fucking idiot. You deserve way better than that.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, carefully avoiding looking at him, “Hey,” He said and crooked a finger under your chin, gently pulling until you met his gaze, “You deserve better, okay?”

You were conscious of the fact that you wanted to kiss him. And you knew he saw the way your eyes drifted dangerously to his mouth.

“I did the same thing to him.” You said quietly, still staring at his mouth, “Only seems fair.”

Jack released your chin and shook his head, “Don’t compare what we did to… To that.”

He sounded disgusted and it made you want to laugh, “How is it any different?”

“That is just drunken lust.” He leaned towards you on his forearms, “What we did meant something. Maybe not to you, but it did to me.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Did it mean something to you?” He shot back.

His face was very close to yours now, you could smell the tequila on his breath.

“Tell me,” He said slowly, “Tell me it didn’t mean anything to you and I swear to God, I’ll walk away and you’ll never hear from me again.”

You swallowed, blinking rapidly to clear the watering of your eyes. Of course you couldn’t tell him it meant nothing. You had thought about it nearly every day for two years.

But you were drunk and a fucking wreck and you didn’t know anything anymore except that you still remembered exactly what Jack Abbot tasted like and that he was looking at you right now like he would get on his knees for you in this crowded bar if you asked.

“I should go.” You whispered softly, broken, and slid from your bar stool.

He let you pass, but then called after you, loudly enough that people around you quieted, “What the fuck are you so scared of?”

You turned back, knowing that your face was flushed from the attention of others, “Goodnight, Dr. Abbot.”

***

“Hey, let her go,” Robby stood in front of Jack who was now trying to exit the bar and follow after you, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m fine,” Jack insisted, and when he looked around Robby, he saw it had started to downpour outside, “She’s drunk and it’s storming out there.”

“Heather will check in with her and make sure she gets home okay.”

Jack looked from the door to Robby a few times before sighing and running a hand through his hair, “Sorry, I just… She really gets under my fucking skin.”

Robby nodded and tried to stifle a yawn, “I noticed.”

Jack sighed, “Go home, Robby, seriously. I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I promise.” He shook his head, “I should probably just go home, too.”

Robby offered a sad smile and clapped him on the shoulder, “It’ll all make more sense in the morning, brother.”

Jack snorted, “Historically, that has never been true for me.”

***

It felt pretty melodramatic to be standing in the park overlooking the river as it poured. It was all very Jane Austen of you, you decided. Except Mr. Darcy would not be showing up to declare his love for you, Mr. Darcy was likely dry and headed home in his UberX.

You didn’t know where home was anymore. Luckily, you hadn’t moved in with your boyfriend yet. It was one of the many things that should have been a red flag, the fact that you hadn’t had a desire to cohabitate with him. You liked when he left in the morning and you liked the nights where he got home too late and went to his own apartment so as not to disturb your rest.

But still, there were traces of him all through your apartment. You didn’t want to be there.

You’re not sure how long you sit in the warm rain before your phone buzzed. You expected Heather or Samira, but were shocked to see Jack’s name on the banner, alerting you to a text.

Jack hadn’t texted you in something like two years.

I know I shouldn’t be texting you, it read, But I just want to be sure you got home safe. Please text when you’re home.

After staring at your phone for a few minutes, now soaked with the rain, you attempted to dry the screen with the sleeve of your jacket. It worked only slightly, but allowed you to hold down the text and “like” it.

After about thirty seconds, the speech bubble appeared on your phone to indicate he was typing.

Well don’t just fucking like the message. Are you home?

You could lie, you supposed. Probably, you could walk into PTMC and sleep in an empty room upstairs.

But you were growing tired of all the pretending.

no. You replied finally.

His reply was immediate, Where are you?

in the park.

It’s raining.

excellent observation, dr. abbot.

You stared at the screen as his speech bubble appeared and disappeared, over and over, for a couple minutes.

Send me your location. Then, almost as an afterthought, Please.

This was a bad idea, probably. After the events of today, you should not be sending Jack Abbot your location. You should not be speaking to Jack Abbot at all. After today, you should probably resign from your residency and maybe join a convent.

You watched as seemingly of their own volition, your hands tapped all the right buttons to send Jack a pin.

A few moments later, he texted a screenshot of an Uber being sent to your location with the car information and license plate.

i don’t want to go home. You sent him in a rush.

Yeah, I got that, he replied, The Uber is bringing you to me.

You blew a long breath out between your lips, you sure that’s a good idea?

Nope. Uber’s pulling up now.

Sure enough, headlights lit up the raindrops behind you. You turned to see the car, quickly giving the license plate a cursory once over to make sure it matched what Jack sent.

You could send the car off. Say it was a mistake. Not get in. Showing up at Jack’s apartment soaked to the skin in the middle of the night, still drunk and emotionally unstable felt like boarding a train you knew would derail.

You still got in the car, though. You didn’t have anywhere else to go.

***

When Jack opened the door to his apartment, the frigid air from his AC assaulted you and you shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He stepped aside to allow you in and you kicked off your water logged shoes.

You had been here only once before, the first week of your residency. Jack would host a team dinner (early, so you could all still make your shift in time) whenever a new resident was added to the night shift.

You had been really nervous you recalled, until Jack had cracked a joke that made you choke on your soda.

It had been almost four years, but his apartment hadn’t changed much at all. It was neat and tidy, nothing out of place. The furniture was well taken care of, but everything was in varying shades of gray and blue. The only hints of personality being some pictures on his fridge, vinyls by a stereo, and some books on a shelf.

But one photo on his fridge caught your eye and before you knew what you were doing, you were walking to it.

Early in your second year of residency, you had presented your research on cardiogenic pulmonary edema outcomes in the ER at a conference in New York. Jack had shown up without telling you he was coming. He stayed near your poster all day while you presented to interested passersby, giving you a thumbs up or “solid work” when you needed it, smuggling you snacks, making sure you drank water. And at the end of it you remembered he took you out to dinner and told you how proud he was of you and what a great emergency medicine doctor you would be.

You had taken a picture with him in front of your poster and this was the photo on his fridge. You had a huge smile on your face and Jack had an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“I didn’t know you had this.” You said softly.

He didn’t say anything so you turned to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the photo, “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” He said finally, walking by you to his bedroom.

You watched in his doorway as he pulled a pair of clean sweatpants and a t shirt from his closet and placed them at the edge of his bed, “The shower’s in that room,” He pointed to a door off the bedroom, “There’s clean towels under the sink, use whatever soap you like.”

He started to walk past you, but you grabbed his arm, and he stopped, eyes snagging on the hand that was touching him, “Thank you.” You said softly.

His eyes slowly roved upwards until they met yours. He searched your face, though you weren’t sure what he was looking for, then pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left the room.

***

After you were showered and changed, you wandered out to the living room where Jack sat on the couch, an arm draped over his forehead. He had taken his prosthetic off and it was propped up next to the coffee table.

When he heard you pad into the room, he cracked his eyes open, “Feeling better?” You nodded. “Good. Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.”

But you still stood there, staring at him, arms wrapped around yourself, “Do you love me?” You asked, voice small.

He stared at you for a moment and sat up, running a hand over his face, “Have I not made it painfully obvious?”

“For how long?”

He shook his head and smiled at you incredulously, “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?”

“You’ve been in control of this,” He gestured between the two of you, “From the second I fucking met you and now you’re trying to what, decode the situation? See what outcome is most advantageous? I mean, Jesus Christ, what do you want?”

“What do I want?”

“Yes,” He said, “Not what seems correct, not what seems rational, what is it that you want?”

“I—“ You shook your head, “I don’t– I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” He said firmly, “Do you want your cheating boyfriend?”

You frowned, “No.”

“Did you ever want him?”

You huffed in frustration, “What do you mean?”

“I mean when you chose him over me, was that what you wanted?”

“That’s not a fair characterization of what happened—“

“Was it what you wanted?”

You faltered, “It was what was safest.” You said softly.

He smiled at you sadly, “He couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t love him, right?”

You stared up at the ceiling, willing the tears back into your eyes, “I didn’t think it meant that much to you.”

“You never gave me the chance to tell you.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, “I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”

You looked at him, eyes watering, and you swallowed hard before you moved to him. He watched you as you placed a knee on either side of his legs, straddling his lap. His eyes followed your every movement reverently, your face just above his as you rested your forehead against his. His hands knotted themselves in your hair, “I’m scared,” You breathed shakily into his mouth.

“Of what?” He asked, his mouth near centimeters from yours.

“Of you. Of wanting you too much. Of losing you. Of everything.”

“I can’t promise you that this will work,” He said softly, “But I can promise I’ll fight like hell to make it work.”

You swallowed, “Because you love me?”

Finally, he laughed, “Yes, I fucking love you. Now be quiet.” He said before he kissed you.

He tasted exactly like you remembered, except tonight, there were remnants of tequila on his tongue. It was like he was trying to make up for lost time, the way he kissed you on that couch. He pushed his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, like he was searching for something he’d lost. Already, you were out of breath, hips grinding down on him without realizing. He sucked your lower lip into his mouth and bit down gently, groaning when you rubbed yourself on his growing erection.

“Slow down,” He chastised.

“You started it.” You reminded him.

“Fuck,” He moaned and then pushed you off him so he could crawl over you, “You’re sure?” He asked as you looked up at him, hair fanning around your head on the couch cushion like a halo.

You nodded, “I want you.”

He smirked and lowered his head to yours again, pulling kisses from you as one hand worked its way under your t-shirt. Your skin was smooth and soft there and he inched up slowly, until his fingers just brushed the underside of your breast. Touching you like this, he thought a lot about that night on the roof, the way he had kissed you like he knew he was already out of time.

Now… Now the world seemed to open up. He could take as much time as he wanted. You weren’t going anywhere, not this time. You were his and he wouldn’t let you go so easily again.

Gently, he tugged the t-shirt over your head so he could look at you and he was unable to suppress the sigh that tumbled from his lips. He squeezed your breast with one hand, thumbed your nipple and watched it pebble as you sighed. Still watching you, he pinched your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger and your eyes rolled back into your head as you writhed beneath him.

He kissed you, fingers still teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers, and then he began to kiss down your jaw and neck until he was able to suck your nipple into his mouth. The moan that fell from your lips when he swirled his tongue around you went straight to his cock.

He was overly conscious of the fact that because he had imagined this very moment for two years minimum, likely longer, because he had imagined it hundreds of times while getting himself off, it was likely he would last all of thirty seconds once he was inside you, once he felt the real thing. So he would make this last for you.

Jack shimmied the sweatpants off of you and forgot that because you were here and you had just showered, you weren’t wearing panties. And suddenly, he felt feral.

“Jesus Christ,” He shook his head looking at you, it felt like maybe he was dreaming a little, having you naked beneath him. He felt almost delirious with it.

You looked up at him, those pupils once again whole saucers, “Touch me, please?” You whined.

He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he reached a hand down between your thighs. You gasped as he fully sunk a finger into you. When he moved his mouth back down to suck on your other nipple, your back arched and it sent him into another dimension, being able to make you feel like this.

With two of his fingers pumping you slowly and a thumb on your clit, he felt the moment when you climaxed before you cried out, “That’s it, sweetheart,” He said softly, “Look so pretty when you come for me like that.”

As you caught your breath, you watched as he pulled his fingers out of you and then sucked your juices from his digits. “Taste so good, too.”

Your eyes stayed locked on one another as he reached for a wooden bowl on the coffee table. He took the top off, pulled out an aluminum packet, and closed it again. And suddenly you were giggling, “What?” He asked, ripping the package open.

“D’you fuck mad bitches on this couch or something, Jack?”

He rolled his eyes, but smirked, “Shut up.”

When he slid into you, forehead pressed to yours, you gasped at the sensation. You had thought about this countless times before, Jack Abbot above you, like this. What you had never really thought about was that maybe while he did it, he’d be looking at you like he was in love with you. And it nearly shattered you.

“I love you,” You murmured into his mouth as you felt him beginning to come undone, “I love you so much.”

He moaned your name as he finished and collapsed against you, damp and breathless, “You love me, huh?” He said after a moment.

You lightly scratched the back of his head, “I’ve loved you for years,” You said softly, “Just spent a lot of that time denying it.”

He pulled his head back and kissed you messily, your chin grasped firmly in his hand.

“Better late than never.”

#the pitt #the pitt fic #the pitt x reader #jack abbot #dr abbot #jack abbot x reader #dr abbot x reader #dr abbot smut #dr abbot imagine #mine

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kisseobie · 1 year ago

Note

car sex w/ piwon? them dropping you off to your house after hanging out at the dorms at night, and you start staring at their hands gripping the wheel for a bit long.. and things just develop (im a car girl don't blame me 🙏)

car sex with p1harmony

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: car sex is one of my biggest kinks so i’m def not judging girl :P oh also i’m dedicating this to my new bff @whimperly go support bella’s blog

listening to: diet pepsi by addison rae ♪

✶ keeho

kyo would look soooo delectable driving, especially late at night. you’re fighting sleep, the streetlights bright and hazy. he’s on aux, blasting sensual songs and humming along, reversing with his arm draped on your headrest for support, leaning his head back and driving with one hand. your window is down, your head peeking out slightly to bask in the cool air hitting your face, getting drunk on the feeling. you glance at your boyfriend and he catches it, smirking at you before turning his attention back to the road—but you can’t focus on anything but him. the air in the car is different now, you both already know where this is heading. when he eventually pulls into your driveway and halts the car, you’re wasting no time and pulling him into a needy kiss, whimpering out a crazed “i need you, kyo”, to which he just replies “bet” and gets to fucking work.

fucks you deep in the backseat of his fancy car, gives no care in the world for the mess you both are making, just wants to pound into your pussy until you’re whining out his name. the music is still on, ac on full blast, but it does nothing to prevent his sweat dripping onto your bare chest with every deep thrust of his practiced hips. after a few rounds of lovemaking i’d imagine he’d just lay with you, pulling your back to meet his chest, playing with your hair and stroking your tummy so sweetly <33 you two would quite literally get lost in each other

✶ theo

for yangie i’d imagine you both would be at a drive inn theatre date, the movie long forgotten as you’d be more preoccupied in swapping spit in his backseat. he’s wearing that leather jacket you oh so love, hair long and groomed and simple studs adorning his ears… tl:dr—he looks fine. at first it would start innocent, theo kissing your cheek as you got lost in the plot of the film, but he’d eventually grow bored and start sucking into the nape of your neck, not missing the way you’d rub your thighs together at the contact. after an impromptu makeout session, he’d whisper some shit into your ear about finding you much more interesting than the movie, and you couldn’t help but agree, wanting to see where this would lead the two of you.

so where did you both end up? fucking like rabbits in the back of his car of course! the movie had already ended, parking lot of the outdoor theatre now completely vacant, but the two of you don’t really notice, not when theo has your legs draped over his shoulders as he slams into your puffy cunt, thumb circling against your clit so harshly you feel lightheaded. he’s grunting so fucking loud, pupils blown out with lust as he just thrusts and thrusts, despite already cumming a few times. the car is foggy with the stench of sex, cherry cola slurpees, and theo’s cologne. you’re sobbing, tears drooping down the sides of your face and puddling against your ears, hair, and of course, his car seats. it’s just soooooo gross and so animalistic but he can’t stop :(

✶ jiung

eats you out, knee deep.. in the passenger seat (thank u chappell roan). i feel like he’d be all horny at the dorms, but wouldn’t do anything about it because he knows you two aren’t alone in the space (def is uncharacteristically handsy though). it doesn’t help that he hasn’t fucked you in weeks because of how hectic group promotions have been, and that you came over to the dorms wearing the tiniest little skirt he’s ever seen. when it’s time for you to leave, he doesn’t turn the car on, doesn’t pull out of the dorm driveway before occupying your space, kissing you deep and descending down to your legs. the tight space is cramped for sure, but he doesn’t really give a fuck, not when he has you above him, panties wet and in his line of vision. presses little kisses onto your clothed pussy, loving the way you’re already pulling at his hair and mewling at such little contact.

eats you out so slowly it makes you insane, no amount of you begging him to “just fuck me already!” halting the lazy way he devours your cunt like it’s his last meal. after all, he deserves this after working so hard, so just shut up and take it :( isn’t mean enough to not fuck you though, he’s not strong enough to dismiss your begging forever. doesn’t bring you to the backseat like you’d expect, he just towers over you and fucks you right into the passenger seat. complains cutely the next day that he’s cramped and sore, but it was worth it ^_^

✶ intak

lovesssss car sex to the point where you’re already anticipating it everytime you two are on a drive alone. it just makes him feel so dirty in the best of ways, the way he can’t control himself around you, the way your pussy squeezes his dick in a vice grip with every thrust, how his cum drips out of you onto his leather seats. i also imagine intak would want to film himself fucking you in his backseat, giving you the nastiest backshots known to man as he makes eye contact with the camera, smirking at how you attempt to hide your face in embarrassment. definitely talks you through it, especially when you ask so kindly to ride him in the backseat :P praises you for taking his dick so well, for letting him fuck you somewhere where anyone could find you both.

his favorite sight though? definitely the image of your bare tits pressed against his windows when he’s pounding into your sloppy cunny. makes him feel like the man, for sure. and on the rare occasion that you’re the one asking to fuck in his car? he’s so giddy, knowing that he’s corrupted his little princess and turned her into a cockwhore :D

✶ soul

i can’t write this prompt for soul and not include the reader giving him head! you’d just be sooo appreciative and full of love for your boyfriend sho, he was so nice to you today, bought your entire saved cart on your favorite online shopping site, purposely let you win when playing smash bros with you, ordered takeout to his dorm and hand fed you :( you feel the need to thank him, to reward him for being such a sweetie pie, and what says thank you better than some sloppy toppy? he’d be sososo shy, begging you to let him park before you unbuckle his pants but you’re too desperate to make him feel good!! when he parks into your driveway he lets go of his coy attitude, fully fists your hair and pushes your head against the base of his cock to the point where you’re loudly gagging against his shaft. when you pull up for some much-needed air you’re beaming at him, giving him the widest smile and wasting no time in dropping back down to your previous position.

i can practically hear shota praising you with a satisfied “atta girl, suck this fucking cock”, cumming into your mouth, and roughly fingering you afterwards as thanks for being such a thoughtful girlfriend :O

✶ jongseob

this def isn’t for everyone but i’m so obsessed with the idea of jongseob being your dealer and boyfriend all in one. he’d drive you to some empty park late at night, would smoke a few pre-rolls with you on the abandoned swings, and get horny and lead you back to his car. the pair of you are stumbling into the backseat, dizzy and giggly, making out with urgency (and some sloppiness) and peeling off each others clothes until you’re both fully naked. ride him while he lights up another joint, it’d be sooo sexy. oh and of course he’d let you take the first puff, would gladly let you grab at his face afterwards and push the smoke into his mouth before crashing your plump lips against his. the effects of the weed has your hips slightly uncoordinated, but none of you really care. seob would smack your ass as encouragement too :3

like keeho, i think afterwards you’d both just lay there, fully bare, cuddling, kissing, and smoking in a comfortable silence. maybe even nap until seob is okay to drive you back home <3 and like i always say, i’m convinced he’d take some polaroid of you, sat on his cock, smoking a joint and staring at the camera all slutty ..

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @dprvivi @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04 @lunepoesie @haku-s0ultrain @tkooooop @taehyux

✶ <3

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paintedwritings · 2 months ago

Text

The Great Frosting Incident

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/her pronouns used)

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: Y/n and Azriel’s mating ceremony/wedding is three days aways, but the two can't help themselves and things get out of hand.

Warning/Notes: Mature content- definitely smut read at your own caution, there's some references to anxiety, but not too much. Hope you enjoy, would love any feedback!

✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧

Y/n thought she’d had a good plan, honestly.

She thought that she was being a kind, thoughtful mate and future wife.

Her wedding and mating ceremony with Azriel is in exactly three days. They had been planning the events for nearly a year and a half, now. The two most introverted people in the Inner Circle had somehow come up with a celebration that would rival all others. They had wanted their guests to enjoy the night just as much as they would.

Before their family-only temple ceremony at midnight–where they’d present each other with food and swear their vows to a priestess, they would be holding a party for all of Velaris at the House of Wind– Nesta had insisted on them using it as their reception venue, she’d wanted to help with decorating and guest-control. Feyre and–surprisingly– Rhys had helped her design her own gowns and Azriel’s ceremony garb. Amren had even gifted her a beautiful deep sapphire jewelry set, the same colors of Azriel’s siphons. Mor had taken Y/n to all of her favorite lingerie and silk shops to find the perfect little underthings for the frenzy– a day that Y/n would never be able to think about without blushing.

Mor had made her feel beautiful, telling her about all the different clasps and types of fabrics, how to remove items quickly, where to put the garters. She had given Y/n a long talk about not letting the male rip any of her beautiful clothing, that they’d pick specific ones out for that. She could still feel the lingering blush when the blond had shot her a wink over a barely-clothed mannequin.

She loved that their family had been building the perfect day with them, that they loved the two of them so much they each wanted to help in their own ways. She couldn’t wait to stand before her mate, the love of her life, and all of her family as they vowed to spend their lives together.

Despite the hectic year, the past week has been the most stressful and chaotic part. So much so, that it felt like the world had caved in to just their small corner of the world.

Tonight, however, she had a few hours of free time. Rhys and Cassian had wanted to take Azriel out for drinks and cards… which worked out perfectly, because she only had one thing left to prepare for.

Making a special frosting for the cupcake she planned to feed him–she needed to practice.

Y/n wasn’t exactly known for her prowess in the kitchen. In-fact, she’d had an incident a few years back where certain parts of the kitchen may have burned just a little bit. Really it was Cassian’s fault–not that the Lord of Bloodshed ever admitted to it– they had been trying to cook some old recipe that he’d found in a book in the library. It had ended very badly. The House of Wind had refused to help with anything the two of them needed for weeks.

And, Rhys? He had banned his two friends from cooking in the kitchen for a year.

But, none of that mattered because Azriel loves this frosting. He claims it’s magic and that it tasted like sun-dripped magic and frost-coated night. That it tasted like everything that reminded him of her.

She wanted to make what she presented to him meaningful, not that he wouldn’t love anything she had to offer him– but that wasn’t the point.

Y/n had to make the perfect frosting, for her perfect mate.

✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧✩☽✧

Things were going terribly.

Bowls were littering the counters, half filled and dry first attempts, jeering at her from the sidelines. The kitchen smelt like bad decisions had been charred and disintegrated from deep within, and oh gods, she couldn’t even think about the frosting.

It was everywhere.

All over the counters, on her clothes, in her hair, she was pretty sure some had gone up her nose at some point, blowing it out when the sugar had sprung to life and made her sneeze when one of Azriel’s shadows had attempted to help savage this disaster.

She had tried so incredibly hard to replicate the frosting recipe. For some reason, she hadn’t thought it would be so difficult, she didn’t even have to use an oven. But, no matter how many times she attempted the foul beast, it either crumbled apart in her hands, or ran so wet that it ruined any cupcakes she had tried to decorate with it.

Panic had begun living rent free in her chest.

So far, she only had one batch that looked anything close to what she remembered.

She set it down on the counter, about ready to burst into tears when she felt a tug in her chest. She had been at this for hours, and the only thing she had to show for it was a semi-smooth grayish blue muck pile.

Cauldron–she could scream.

She turned, running her back along the bottom cabinets as she found her way to the floor. A floor she only just now realized had been covered in all sorts of mess she’d created gods only knew how long ago at this point.

Azriel is enjoying his night out with his brothers, something he doesn’t get to do very often as of late. The last thing Y/n wanted was to mess up his fun night with her ridiculous baking skills.

She had one job, to make her mate something devine that he’d love. A representation of their bond to show him how much she loved him, and that she wanted to spend her life with him. And, somehow, she couldn’t even accomplish that.

I’m a failure.

Suddenly, as if the thought shattered whatever wall had been holding her impending tears back, her body wracked with sobs, shaking back and forth slowly.

How had everything happened so quickly? How were they already a few dozen hours away from the most important day of her life? Why couldn’t she make something as simple as frosting?

She felt the bond warm, the small thread singing as the person attached to the other end of it appeared before her. His worried hazel eyes met her round, tear-stained ones, as he gently pulled her hands away from her face. Assessing her state, quickly. Seeing that she wasn’t physically hurt only had her mate relaxing slightly and moving on to other devilish things that could have put her in this state.

“What’s the matter, little dove?” He spoke softly, his large hands cradling her face so softly.

She sniffled, sure she must look absolutely crazy right now.

“You look beautiful,” he spoke earnestly. “And your side of the bond is wide open.”

The statement only made her cry harder. How had she been blessed with such a wonderful male? While he got stuck with a girl who can’t even make a bowl of freaking frosting.

Lifting her with no effort at all, Azriel set her down on the countertop, his body pressing into hers as her legs fell apart, allowing him to stand between them. Apron scrunching around her hips.

“Talk to me, love,” he pleaded, his hands ghosting up the length of her arms. His shadows slithering up her exposed skin, the cool sensation setting a smile on her lips.

“I think I’m just overwhelmed,” she whispered, wiping desperately at the tears on her cheeks, the wetness mixing with all her miserable attempts. “Today’s the first day I’ve really had a chance to breathe, and I am just now realizing I am terrified.”

Azriel hummed, his way of letting her know he was listening, and that he’d wait however long she needed to get her thoughts out. “I am so excited for the next parts of our lives together,” giving him a small smile and a quick squeeze of his hand, “It’s just so much has been going on the past year, and I’m so ready to get to the next part. To just have you and not have to plan the perfect party or worry about flower arrangements and whether or not we want guests to eat on crystalled dinnerware or marble,”

Azriel chuckled lightly, placing a kiss against her hair, his hand– the one not clasped in her hands– rubbing smooth circles along her back.

“I’m ready, too.” He admitted. “And, that’s okay, little dove. We’ve had a great year, planning together and building something that we are excited to share with the people we love.” He lifted her chin, catching her beautiful eyes with his dark pools of hazel, “I think it’s normal to feel this way, it just means that we are ready for what comes after. And I–” he swallowed, his forehead falling against hers, “I cannot wait to be able to call you my mate, my wife.”

Letting out a sigh, tears finally cleared, his mate smiled contentedly at him. “How do you always know the right things to say?”

“I speak to you with what’s in my heart–” A coy smile pulled at his lips, “And sometimes what’s in my pants.”

Laughing, she smacked his arm, wrapping her arms around his neck, pure love shining in her gaze as she looked towards her mate.

“You have made quite a mess, haven’t you?” Azriel said lightly, his hand coming to the back of her neck, placing a chaste kiss against her lips. A small pout falls onto them when he pulls away to take a more in depth look around.

“Are you making…”

“Cupcakes and the dreaded frosting,” she sighs. “Or trying to. Elain got me the recipe of that blueberry-lemon frosting–”

“The one that tastes like a mix of my favorite guilty pleasures and you?” His voice sounded awfully close to giddy.

You give him a small smile, kissing the edge of his jaw softly. “Yes, that’s the one.”

He hummed, elation at the prospect evident as he lifts on the balls of his feet a few times. “And you’re making cupcakes with my favorite frosting, because?”

“Oh,” a blush creeps up your cheeks, “I wanted to practice for when–” she stops herself, eyes meeting his as understanding dawns. Those golden pools of hazel that she loves so much darken, desire flooding through him in an instant.

His lips are on hers in the next breath, his hand wrapped around the back of her neck tightening, so slightly. His other hand tangling in the messy bun adorning the top of her head, loosening the string that had been keeping it out of her face, and the frosting.

His wings flare behind him as her legs wrap firmly around his middle, dragging him ever closer, not a breaths space left between the two. He groans, rutting his body against the counter unconsciously, as her scent of crisp fall air and lavender envelopes around him, he can’t help but smile as he scents the blueberry from the frosting covering her, as well.

Gods, the things he wanted to do to her were endless.

His tongue tangled with hers, fighting for dominance for a brief moment before his hand tightened in her hair, yanking her head back gently, causing her to open her mouth fully, a moan coming out of her. He didn’t mind letting her have control every once in a while, but while she sat between his legs, leaning so wholly against him, trusting him entirely… practicing baking for when– for when they would accept the bond–

Azriel kissed her harder, more desperately.

Gods above, he was so in love with her. He knew she was nervous about the ceremonies, about being the center of attention. He would do everything in his power to ensure that he alleviated those anxieties as much as possible. He fell more in love with her each day. She had always fit right into his life, his family, so effortlessly. Perfectly.

Her generous soul and wondering spirit called to him in the deepest parts of his heart. She had been made as his equal, his partner, his mate, mate, mate. His shadows chanted, he shoved them down–away. Somedays he had no problem sharing his mate with them, but right now, he wanted it to just be the two of them.

“What–” She said breathless as his lips trailed down her jaw, her throat, leaving open mouth kisses everywhere he could. His scarred hands trailing the length of her arms now, one clasping her hands together, squeezing once, twice. “About Rhys and Cassian?” She sputtered.

Azriel had know idea what she was talking about, but couldn’t help the growl that escaped as two other men’s names came from your delicious lips. It didn’t matter that they were his brothers, it still set him on edge, especially when he had his tongue down her throat. Reading his confusion and possessiveness, she giggled softly as the two of them caught their breath. “Weren’t you supposed to be enjoying a boys night out tonight?”

Oh. Oh.

He fought a blush as it crept up his neck, beelining for his cheeks. “They’re fine, we were just drinking and playing cards– they lost miserably–truly you did them a favor by taking me off their hands.” A kiss placed on each of her cheeks before his forehead fell against hers once more. “You’re beautiful, and I’d much rather be here with you.”

“Besides, I think we should practice a different part of our mating ceremony tonight,” Her eyes glazed over as desire pooled deep within, every inch of her body standing to attention, ready to have this male, her male, ravish her wholly.

All thoughts emptied out of her head as his tongue danced along hers, hands cupping her breasts through her shirt, plucking at the nipples as they hardened, earning a moan from her that he happily devoured.

Trailing her fingers across his hard erection, palming him fully, mouth salivating at the sheer size of this male, their bond vibrated with ecstasy. Azriel jolted forwards, ricocheting her body backwards, her hand accidentally smashing into the bowl of frosting she had made early– the bluish mixture coating her fingers.

They were far too gone to care, his hands pulling at her clothing, all but tearing her apron off, as he shoved her skirt up to her waist. A growl leaving him as his hand slid along her skin, gooseflesh sprouting in their wake, cursing as he realized she had no panties beneath. A daring smile pressing along her mouth as he kissed her harder, losing his control, swiftly.

She cradled his cheeks with her hands, absentmindedly, her fingers flicking all over his face, painting him with frosting as they found their way into his hair, his mouth trailing down her throat as his fingers found the pool of her arousal, his fingers flicking deftly once, twice against the little nub, her back arching as a moan escaped her.

“Az, we should–we should go to our room,” her voice didn’t sound convincing in the slightest. Especially not when she let out a beautifully delectable noise when he ran his fingers along her folds, slipping one in quickly. Letting out his own groan at the heat of her core on his skin. He could die happy like this, he decided.

“Or,” his teeth grazed the edge of her ear, slowly pressing her down into the table, splaying her in front of him like his own personal feast. “I could taste you right here, take my beautiful little dove on this island and show her how I plan to worship her for the rest of our lives,” Her eyes trailed his every move of his body as he dropped to his knees, her knees closing on instinct around him, her core tightening.

Her body burned, his touch lingered on every inch of her as he trailed delicate kisses along her thigh, to the inside of her knee, and down to her ankle, then straight back up the other side. “So perfect,” he spoke between kisses, “my beautiful mate,” then he pressed a sweet, almost fragile kiss, directly against her.

She moaned, greedy for his touch, his lips on her most sensitive parts. Her hands needed a place to land, to grip onto so she didn’t fall straight off the edge of the world. She grabbed the table, his hair, even the bowls of frosting still surrounding them as he continued his assault against her clit, his finger being joined by a second one as they repeatedly hit that wonderful spot deep inside of her.

She settled on holding her breasts, the fabric of her shirt somehow ending up somewhere near her collarbone. She applied any kind of friction she could as her mate ravaged her, his hand flattened against her lower abdomen as his tongue replaced his fingers, dipping in and out of her–moaning right alongside her as he devoured her juices, did his best to capture every little bit, not wanting to miss even a ounce. His fingers found their way to her clit, stroking and massaging her into madness.

Once his tongue entered the picture, she had been a goner, quickly hurtling toward that ledge, her body alight with unfettered pleasure, something only this man could ever make her feel.

He drank her in as her body finally coiled tightly, a release so intense her back bowed off the table. His tongue lightly flicked at her entrance, trying to coax her through her high, her legs shaking so thoroughly she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to stand again.

Slowly, so slowly, her mate stood, still fully clothed, and gently pulled her up. Her skirt fell back around her waist, offering little to hide what had just occurred as she completely fell against him. He held her up, slowly stroking her arm, allowing her a moment to catch her breath.

Their eyes met, small smiles lit both of their faces. Y/n didn’t give much thought as she brought her fingers to his lips, feeling the soft, swollen skin. She still had frosting on them, and Azriel didn’t hesitate as he sucked a digit into his mouth, licking and suckling the skin, letting it go with a pop.

He stepped back momentarily as her giggles took control, his tongue reaching out, flicking across his lips, tasting it, some frosting still coating the area. “It’s good.” He amends. She didn’t know if he meant the frosting or her, as he lifted his fingers that had just been deep inside of her and tasted them thoroughly, his eyes never leaving hers.

She could already feel that heat building up inside of her, nowhere near satiated yet. It only took one look at her mate to know that he was nowhere near done with her, either.

Then he’s coming towards her, and she barely has enough time to duck beneath his arms and scurry around the island she’d just been perched on. Already running from the male with mischievous glint in her eyes.

She barely makes it to the doorway when she watches Azriel with wicked intent in his dark, arousal filled gaze. His deft fingers dip into the blue frosting, quickly aiming it towards her retreating form. Y/n squeals and runs for her life as Az chases her through the corridor.

She doesn't even make it all the way down the hallway before he’s on her. A strong arm wraps around her middle, his other hand coming up and smearing frosting across her cheeks, and down her neck as they both laugh.

Then she’s against the wall, Azriel caging her in, frosting covered hands roving all over each other, his lifting her skirt once more, looking like he was ready to just tear the damn thing off her. Squeezing her thighs, traveling up the length of her stomach and breasts, before landing back on either side of her face. He consumed her whole.

A man starved.

One of her hands is gripping his leathers for dear life, trying to stay tethered to this world as it crashes down around her. Her other hand, well, it has a mind of its own as she lifts it slowly, eyes meeting his as she asks the silent question. When he nods quickly before going back to servicing his god, her finger runs a short, soft line down the side of his wing.

The noise that comes out of him is somewhere between a plea and a beast's snarl. His cock is straining against his leathers, rock hard against her leg. Another quick sprinkling of fingers across his wings has him rutting against her lewdly, his teeth sinking into her shoulder at the uncontrollable act. Kissing down the length of his throat, she finally releases the death grip on his leathers and unbuckles his pants.

“Y/n.” It’s a shallow, broken word. She swears she can hear a please come after.

She loved that she could drive him to this state. That he felt safe enough with her to be so free, at her mercy.

“What is it you always ask me?” she taunts lowly. His eyes lock with hers, something awfully close to intrigue, and complete submission simmering behind them. Giving him a wicked smile, as she frees his thick, swollen cock, her hand not able to wrap entirely around him. A needy-whimper falls from his lips, his breathing nothing more than shallow pants, as she strokes the length of his cock, up and down, over and over, squeezing when needed, and rubbing the pad of her thumb leisurely over the tip of him, precum oozing out. He’s smooth in her hand, pulsating at each wicked flick of her wrist. Her body pressed so thoroughly to the wall, if anyone walked in they would only see him.

“Are you going to be good for me?” She finally asks, a voice she doesn't even recognize falling from her lips. “We wouldn’t want anyone hearing you, your noises are mine.” She purred, hand still casually stroking her mate, watching as he slowly lost his mind, watched as his legs started shaking, his eyes screwed shut tightly, lips pressed together, biting his tongue, trying so desperately to not make noise.

“Y/n, I’m–” She had never heard him sound so undone. She wanted to carve it into her memory, trace it with her tongue.

It took no time for him to help lift her, her legs wrapping around his middle. It took even less time for him to sheath himself fully inside of her. The two far past caring that they were in the middle of a hallway in the House of Wind, some of their family occupying rooms all throughout.

The only thing that mattered to her was the feeling of Azriel, inside of her, filling her so full that she felt complete.

They were panting, one of his arms wrapped tightly around her middle, simultaneously pressing her hard against the wall and his chest. Her fingers found their way under his silk top, tracing the ridges of his abs, and following the lines of his tattoos that she could draw in her sleep.

“Az,” she panted, as her mate stood still, filling her completely, but torturing her by staying so utterly still. “Please, move,” she tried to lift herself, to bounce on his cock, but his firm hands.

“Little dove,” he spoke, his words strained, “I just need a moment–”

His lips pressed to her hair, then her cheek, her jaw, then, finally, so, so slowly he pulled out, slowly pushing all the way back in.

The moans that came from them would have sent a priest into the ground. Their breaths danced together, their eyes locking briefly before they’re lips connected and he began moving again.

“Oh, gods,” she mewled as he hit that spot so deep inside of her, his hips flush with hers as one of his hands found the cheek of her ass, hitting once, twice. The soft burn only brought her closer to the high already building inside of her, her arms wrapping around his neck, giving him easier access to her hips as he continued his torturous thrusts.

Noises were spilling out of her like symphonies to his ears, new melodies being born into the world. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching behind him, stroking the tips of her fingers around the curved edge near the top.

Whatever control Azriel had snapped.

His hands gripped her hips, his body flush against hers, the wall and his hands the only two things keeping her upright. He thrust into her over and over, euphoria shattering her vision as stars burst behind her lids. She could feel him pulsating, their slick centers making a deliciously crude sound as they came together over again.

When the tips of his fingers met that desperate, aching pearl, stroking and kneading in a way he knew she’d love, she imploded.

Her orgasm ricocheted through her body in waves. All thoughts emptying from her mind as pleasure consumed her. As her mate continued to ruthlessly pound into her, harsh breaths spilling from between his lips.

“That’s it, my little dove, milk my cock.” He soothed, his fingers finally relenting their ministrations against her. There was nothing but pure male pride laced in his voice, possessiveness oozing from every orifice.

Her hips circle his on instinct, ready for another round, it didn’t matter that she’d already come twice, she needed more. Besides, her mate typically didn’t let her go without giving her at least three to his one. He took great care of her, always making sure she was completely satisfied.

“I want you to cum in my mouth,” she pleads, stopping her tortuous movements. He let out a choppy sob at the sudden loss of feeling.

“Holy fuck, Y/n,” he growled, slipping out of her and guiding his mate down to her knees without a second thought. His hand staying put in her hair, helping to guide her exactly where he wanted her. Sitting back on her heels, looking up at him with big innocent eyes. This beautiful specimen of a man standing over her, stroking his cock like his life depends on it. There was a wild, animalistic look in his eyes, sweat beading across his forehead. He was still covered in icing, Suddenly she was so thankful she took to baking today.

Azriel smacks the head of his cock against her mouth, once, twice, before slowly guiding himself inside her hot, tight mouth. Both moaning into each other, it took everything inside of Azriel not to rut straight to the back of her throat, “fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last long, I don’t think I can hold myself back. Mother above, you're so perfect, perfect for me. Made to suck my cock. Isn’t that right, love?”

His cock hit the back of her throat, the stretch uncomfortable, but so delicious. “Remember, little dove, if its too much you hit my thigh three times,” She does her best to nod, but only manages to choke herself more as Azriel pulls his cock out to the tip, before slamming back in, her eyes blacking out for just a moment, a gag trapped between their bodies. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hand guiding her head.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” she could hear the control slipping from his tone, could feel as he quickly hurtled to that edge, she had every intention of joining him there. So, she did as she was told. She slipped her fingers between her legs, feeling their mix of juices as they leaked down her thighs, and began stroking–matching her swirls of her tongue with her fingers.

Starting to speed up his motions, as he pulled his greedy cock in and out, using her mouth like his own personal paradise.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he raspy voice chorused.

His thrusts turned sloppy, his hands tightening in her hair, when his cock hit the back of her throat one last time, a gag unstoppable as he spilled down her throat.

She drank him up, every last drop, she didn’t want to miss any of him. Thick, warm liquid that tasted of salt and the darkness and entirely of him coated her throat. His taste alone had her following quickly after, her third orgasm barrelling through her as she sat on her knees in the middle of the hallway, skirt lifted to her waist, cardigan lost somewhere around her arms.

When he pulled out, breathing heavily, Y/n couldn’t help but place a chaste kiss against the head of his cock, one last peck, just an ‘until next time’. He hissed at the overstimulation, his hands guiding themselves around her elbows before he guided her to her feet.

“That was–” he shook his head, letting it fall against hers. She smiled as he fixed his leathers, looking around to ensure none of their family had had the misfortune of bearing witness to the two of them.

She’s about to say something when Azriel tenses. One of his shadows darting around his shoulders.

Azriel looked her over, straightening her skirt, and closing her cardigan as he did his best to try to wipe the remaining frosting off of her face. That’s when she hears them.

Footsteps, loud, even in fae standards, coming down the perpendicular hallway. Purposeful, those steps were meant to alert the two lovebirds.

She could already feel the blush taking over her, flooding her cheeks, her chest, her shoulders, her knees, every inch of her being.

“It’s okay, little dove,” Azriel whispered into her hair.

She was so embarrassed–

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He soothed. “ That was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. We’re mates, we’re bound to lose ourselves in the moments sometimes.” She nods quickly, pride slowly sawing away at her humiliation, “besides, Cassian and Nesta have done way worse things to each other, in far more of our shared living spaces.”

Burying her face in his chest, his soul finding solace as his arms wrapped around her, his cheek laying against the top of her head.

He came to an abrupt halt, inhaling his mate’s scent– it was different?

What the hell?

Rhys finally rounds the corner, peeking over slightly to ensure he’s not disrupting the two of them in the middle of their…relations. Cassian, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice or maybe he just didn’t care.

“What the hell is going–” Cassian starts, stopping short as he enters the hallway. “Good gods, what were you two doing in here? It reeks of sex and–”

“Cassian,” Azriel snarls. Stepping more fully between his brothers and his mate. Instincts flaring alive inside of him, calling to him to keep her far out of their sights. His wings rose as they stretched to their full length, keeping her out of his brothers’ line of sight.

She could only imagine how this must have looked to the males. Both of them breathless, him cradling her to his chest, face buried against him, both of them still covered in frosting, there were even some spots on the walls covered in the dark blue sugar.

“Uh, guys–” Cassian continues, ignoring Azriel, and the very nasty snarls coming from the shadowsinger as his grip on her only tightens. His shadows now back in full as they swarm to cover her skin where she’s bare.

“Stop staring at her,” Y/n’s eyes widened, she had never heard Azriel sound so…feral.

“Az?” She spoke so lowly only he could hear.

Azriel seemed to have stopped breathing, his eyes closed so tightly that the crinkles in his eyes appeared. He nodded his head, probably talking to Rhys via his daemati abilities.

When his eyes finally opened, they were filled with nothing but sorrow, and what looked like… an apology?

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I wasn’t thinking straight.” It was at that moment that everything clicked into place.

The frosting.

No, no, no.

Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide as she stood stark still against her mate. He had licked the frosting. That she had made for him.

“But–but we,” she stammered, thoughts running a mile a minute. “It’s not like I offered it to you on a spoon!” She screeched as the past year started crumbling around her. All of the planning, all the hard work and long days, only for them to–

Oh gods.

Cassian cringed, making sure to stay far away, now that he knew why his brother had been pulsating, ready to burst at their appearance. The slight twitch of his wings, the only indication of his possessive rage, that took root deep inside of him.

“Whatever you did,” Rhys spoke carefully, also standing further back, she noticed. “Was enough for the bond to solidify, your scents–”

Azriel snarled so viciously when the High Lord met Y/n’s gaze, his mate quickly looking anywhere else as to avoid agitating him.

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths, waiting to see if Azriel would continue to cradle his new mate against his rough-rising chest or if he’d lunge for one or both of his brothers, as they all walked a very fine, very unpredictable line.

Then, she laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Azriel’s eyes tracked her every movement, her head falling back against the wall, her fingers holding tightly to his leathers, keeping him close. His ears rung with pleasure at the sound, his fear of how this would change things dissipating at the sound. Did that mean… she wasn’t angry?

Then she smiled, unwavering and bright, her hands cradling his cheeks as she stared at her mate. “We’re accidentally-officially mated,” Her face aglow with utter joy and excitement.

She’s not sure when Rhys and Cassian finally made their exit, the males slowly backing away, giving each other looks, not having expected this turn of events.

She didn’t care, though.

“We are never going to live this down,” she groaned. Already knowing that their family and friends would tease them about this for years to come. She smiled, the thought not nearly as alarming as she’d thought.

Not when she was in her mate’s arms, not when their scents were merged in the most delicious ways.

“I guess it’s not practice, after all.” She spoke softly, her lips brushing along his, “now, are you gonna stand there and stare at me all day, or are you going to bring me to our bedroom and finish what we started?”

Pure male pride lit Azriel’s face, a wicked smirk that showed off his canines was the last thing she saw before they disappeared into his shadows.

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #rhysand #cassian acotar #acotar fanfic

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the-shedevil-writes · 18 days ago

Text

Puppy Love Part 2! (Bob Floyd x Reader)

HEY! READ PART ONE HERE! From a request by @phoenix-rising-starbird-one DESCRIPTION: After the interview is posted, the squad goes viral- particularly and surprisingly Bob Floyd the most so. He visits you at the dog shelter and works up the nerve to ask you something important. WORD COUNT: 2.3k WARNINGS: Kissing, Online thirst comments (I'm holding up a mirror to ya'll), Foster dogs mentioned/Very cute bulldog puppy MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3!

“‘Gimme that dork in the back’.” Rooster read from the comments on his phone.

“W-what?” Bob stammered. Almost a month after the Puppy Interview, it was finally published in the magazine, and the footage was posted to YouTube. Bob had woken up to a bombardment of notifications from people. Friends. Family. All asking him if that was really him, and why he hadn’t told anybody. At first, he was decently confused. How were so many people able to see it so quickly? He’d expected one or two people to go ‘Ha, it’s Bob.’ But there were so many missed calls and texts… Too many.

It was when Y/n texted him

Y: You’re going viral!!!!

He realized what had happened. He and Y/n had been going steady for the past month. A few dates over the past few weeks, but they hadn’t made anything official yet. Even though she ran marathons in his mind. Even though he wanted to ask her so badly that when he flew, his mind would wander to how he’d do it. Over text? In person? How should he say it?

“How on Earth is BABY ON BOARD blowing up out of all of us?” Hangman asked, throwing his arms up as they sat around the hangar during lunch.

Rooster scrolled through his phone. “Yeah, like… all the comments are about him.”

Phoenix scrolled through her own phone as she ate her sandwich. She laughed. “I like this one- ‘Lieutenant Bob Floyd, the third amendment don’t mean shit to me.’”

Bob’s face turned bright red.

“There’s gotta be more on you guys. You’re pulling a joke on me.” He said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Found one for you, Hangman.” Payback piped up from the back, “‘I would climb Jake Seresin like a god damn tree.’”

“Thank you,” Hangman said

“You’re welcome,” Payback said jokingly earnest.

Bob’s phone DINGED, and he was glad to have at least some sort of out of the conversation. He checked it, and it was a message from Y/n. His heart skipped a beat, like it always did when she texted him.

She sent a picture of Bob that had been featured in the magazine. It was a snapshot of him holding up the bulldog to his face. His little pout mirrored the dog's natural jowls.

Y: New contact photo unlocked. Also… dinner to celebrate your newfound fame?

He couldn’t help the small smile that naturally came to his face.

B: Absolutely. Pick you up from work?

Y: Yes <3

“‘I’ve never wanted to be a bulldog so damn bad.’” Rooster read, making Hangman groan again.

After his shift, he rushed home to put on a pair of cleaner clothes than what he had packed in his duffel bag. He always wanted to make sure he seemed presentable for her. So he quickly regelled his hair, cleaned his glasses, and sprayed some cologne.

Driving up to the dog shelter, he found himself back to square one of nervousness. He had frequented the shelter for the past month. So much so that the dogs had started to look forward to his visits. Yet with the article and video going viral, it added a new layer of stress.

He parked his baby blue pickup and walked up to the doors of the forest green building. She worked at one of the bigger shelters. It was a little further out, but of course always worth the drive.

Through the glass doors, he could already see her sitting at the front desk. She was still in her uniform of a black polo and jeans. The bun that held her hair was messy from what Bob figured was surely a hectic day of work.

She looked up, saw him, and her face brightened as he walked inside. Her smile was so contagious, and it made his heart skip. His own lips naturally curving.

“Hello, superstar.” She teased

Bob waved her off, “Oh, don’t even.” He walked forward and leaned onto the counter.

“We all watched the interview on the TV here this morning.” She said excitedly, “To watch our dogs, of course… And not the very attractive military personnel.”

He blushed, but quickly shifted the conversation by drumming the table. “Can I see Dozer?”

Dozer- short for Bulldozer- was one of the bulldogs that he had worked with. He couldn’t help the fact that he had grown a little attached to the now 5-month-old chunky puppy. But he also knew that he couldn’t adopt a dog while living on his own with his line of work. He was constantly on the go. Sometimes gone for days or even months at a time. Adopting a dog would be pretty careless of him.

“Oh, I have good news for you about that.” She smiled, “The video has BLOWN UP the adoption interest, and Dozer’s gonna be going to a foster home in the next few days.”

Bob grinned, “What! That’s amazing.” He knew that Dozer had been in the puppy ward for quite a while. That was the area of the facility reserved for dogs who couldn’t find foster homes, and Dozer had been there for quite a while. “Well, let me say goodbye then.”

She walked over and opened the gate for him to come through. They had done this routine quite a few times now.

They walked through the halls, and when she opened the door, there was an eruption of yips and barks. But Dozer specifically was jumping at the fence, excited to see Bob again.

She very carefully opened the gate and kept the wiggling Dozer at bay as Bob followed her in.

“Hey, big fella.” He said, immediately sitting on the concrete floor. Ironic considering Dozer was still pretty small in stature, but was naturally built wide. “Are you finding a new home? Are you famous now?” Bob asked as the puppy jumped up onto his chest, and he scratched its back.

Y/n sat down next to Bob, her back against the wall. He still felt nervous being around her, but having Dozer in his lap calmed him down. The whole experience had really just made him wish that he could adopt a dog, purely for the emotional support.

“He’s gonna miss you,” She said softly.

Bob sadly scratched the top of Dozer’s flat head. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss him too. But ya know, I’m just glad he’s found somebody.” He said, nodding surely.

His glasses slipped to the end of his nose, and she gently reached up to push them back against his face. His cheeks warmed and she smiled at his flustered reaction. Gently, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

This wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but it may as well have been the way Bob’s hair stood up. He sighed in relief. It was as if she were an oxygen tank and he had been suffocating for far too long. After long, tense days in the air, she was always so grounding.

He wanted to keep kissing her, but then impatient Dozer jumped up on his lap and bonked his head against Bob’s cheek, startling him. “Oh!”

She laughed and looked back down at Dozer. “Okay, okay.” She leaned over and kissed excited Dozer on the head. “There, now you’re equal.”

Bob looked at her with just… pure amazement. She was so gentle and understanding to all creatures, big and small. On their first date, Bob had accidentally sputtered out that she was like a Disney princess, and honestly, he still believed it.

Barbara, one of Y/n’s coworkers, came by. She recognized him instantly from all the times he’d visited. “Hey, Bob! How are you loving all the attention?” He shook his head. “I don’t wanna look at the comments.”

“Oh, stop it! They all love you.” She said, and then leaned over the fence, “And if that Hangman fella is single… send him my way.” She winked

Bob laughed. “Okay, I will.”

As Barbara walked away, Y/n put her head on his shoulder. Dozer trotted away and grabbed his squeaky toy, shaking his head.

“I told you they all love you. Have you even checked Instagram today?” She asked.

Bob’s eyes widened. “Oh god. No, I haven’t.” He quickly dug his phone from his back pocket and opened it. A million notifications clogged his screen, but he opened Instagram to see a sight he had never seen before. 99+ Likes 99+ Follows. 99+ Comments. Usually, it was just his mom or Rooster commenting. He barely even posted. He used the app more as a way to access the Dagger Squad Group Chat, which consisted of stupid memes and drunken blackmail material.

She rubbed her hands together. “Lemme read the comments.”

“I don’t even- I don’t even know what they’d be,” Bob said honestly.

“I have a feeling,” She smirked.

Bob handed her the phone, and she immediately went to his most recent post. A picture of the squad where he was kneeling down in the front row in his flight suit. She opened the comments and covered her mouth, stifling a laugh.

“Oh god, what is it?” Bob asked nervously, “They’re all making fun of me, huh?”

She looked at him, surprised, “WHAT? NO! Bob, all these girls are in love with you.”

Now that was a sentence he had never heard in his life. He didn’t have much of a love life before Y/n. He had gone to Prom in high school with a date, but god, that was how many years ago now? It’s one of the reasons why he felt like he was having a heart attack every time he was near her. He didn’t want to mess it up… So hearing that girls across the world were in love with… Bob Floyd? That didn’t feel right.

“You’re lying,” Bob said in disbelief.

“No look-” She angled the phone screen between them so they could both read.

Delilah-Davis: I can bark. Is that close enough?

Cowgirl23: ‘Til we-’ WE AINT STOPPING.

Adventuresome: Come home, the kids miss you.

Bob’s brows furrowed. He barely understood what any of that meant. “I don’t have kids. I hope you know that.”

She laughed even harder. “No, no, it’s like something girls say when they see a hot guy online.”

He tilted his head, confused. Dozer practically mirrored him as he laid in Bob’s lap, chewing his toy. Bob’s hands naturally ran over Dozer’s bumpy back.

Bob read over a few more. “What does… ‘Gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure’ mean?”

She scream laughed. “STOP! I CAN’T BREATHE!” She buried her face in the crook of his neck. He flushed at both the feeling of her breath so close to his sensitive skin, and also the feeling of not being in the know. She took a deep breath “Okay- okay- it’s from this like podcast. And it’s like describing uh… a sense of ferality towards a person.”

“A sense of ferality?”

“She’s so attracted to you that she’s like going crazy.”

Bob laughed, confused. “TO ME?”

She shrugged and put her hands up. “I mean- I get it.”

He shook his head, letting the laughter breathe out of him.

“This is so weird.”

She looked up at him, her chin still on his shoulder. “Why’s it weird?”

He threw his hands up, a little unsure how to start. “I mean, I’m- I’m Bob. The guy who sits in the back and gets shit on by guys who look like Rooster and Hangman. I was crapping myself over a puppy interview. And I can’t even get different glasses frames because these are military grade.”

Her eyes softened at him, and her head tilted slightly. “I like your glasses.” She said gently.

She reached between them and held his hand.

“You know, Bob… I think you are very handsome.” She said, “You’re hot.”

He couldn’t help the laugh at that. “Hot?”

“Yeah. Hot. You’re sweet. Good with dogs. I mean- Jesus, look at your arms. You fly in jets. What else could a girl ask for?”

Every single thing she listed made his face get redder and redder.

She continued, “You know, seeing all these girls thirsting after you is driving me a little insane.” He looked down at her. “Why’s that?”

“Because now I have competition.” She chuckled, but it was clear there was an obvious tension there. They weren’t official yet.

He subtly shook his head, not taking his eyes off of her. “You really don’t.” He said softly.

There was a tense silence.

“Why haven’t you asked me yet?” She asked

“Because I don’t want to mess it up.”

A small smile crossed her lips. “I have a feeling you won’t.”

More silence. He took a deep, shaky breath as he looked at her.

“I think I’ve thought over how to say this a million different times in a million different ways.” He said, looking down between Dozer in his lap and Y/n’s eyes, “But I guess to put it simply… I really like you. And I think you’re just… awesome.” He breathed out.

“Awesome?” She smirked

“Let me regret that more in a second.” He said, trying to fight through the internal cringe. “I would really like to be your boyfriend. Can I be your boyfriend?”

He wasn’t expecting her to smash her lips onto his. A little surprised noise came from him before he kissed her back.

“Yes, you big softie.” She laughed.

That night at dinner, Y/n showed him the ways of a hard launch.

He posted a (Y/n Approved) picture of her across from him with a glass of wine in her hand. She looked gorgeous in a fresh dress and her hair down. He quickly saved it before drawing a little heart and posting it onto his Instagram story.

Casually breaking the hearts of hundreds of girls simultaneously. But it didn’t matter because now he had locked down the girl of his dreams.

Narcosfan65: FUCK. SHE’S BEAUTIFUL.

Bob smiled down at his phone after seeing that. He knew it was true. And he quickly replied-

JustBobFloyd: @ HangmanSeresin is single.

And put his buzzing phone away so he could look at his girl straight in the eyes.

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samaraxmorgan · 7 months ago

Text

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time The Heater Broke On Christmas”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: frenemies to lovers, tooth rotting fluff, mutual pinning

Word Count: 2.44k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Christmas is always a hectic time of year, and after spending the last week in an utter state of chaos trying to get all of your friend’s and family’s gifts ordered and in the mail on time, cookies baked and hidden away from your ravenous roommate Sukuna who swears up and down that he doesn’t even like sweets but the ones you make just taste so much better, and staying up until midnight haphazardly taping in messily folded wrapping paper and scribbled “to and from” tags on countless presents, you were more than ready to flop onto your living room couch and pass out.

But you’re just not allowed to have nice things, it seems.

The apartment is freezing cold when you walk in the front door, cool air pinching your skin and the groan of annoyance escaping your throat leaving a puff of white air in its wake. Sukuna left shortly after you did this morning to spend the day with his brothers, and as you rush your way over to the thermostat to turn the heat back on you can’t even begin to fathom why he would bother turning the air off when you were both only gone for the day. Sure, the bills can get expensive, but he’s not seriously that broke… you hope.

But as you push the buttons on the thermostat and the little screen informs you that the air in fact is on, dread rushes through you. A quick call to the landlord ends exactly how you expected it to, sent to voicemail with a cheery little message mentioning that no one will be available until after the holidays.

You may as well just die in here, you think as you sit down on the couch. The cool leather is almost painfully cold, making you flinch when it hits your skin. Silently you contemplate going back to where you spent the whole day; even if there were tons of people and you ended up leaving early because you were dying for some peace, at least it was nice and warm there.

But you push that idea aside, getting back on the train would be a pain, you’d have to trek through the snow again on your way back to the station, you could come up with a million excuses but in the back of your mind there’s this little nagging feeling that you don’t want to admit is the real reason you would rather stay home. You haven’t seen Sukuna all day.

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid, but you’ve been so busy and even though the two of you live together it feels like you haven’t been able to see him for almost the entire week. And even though you spent the whole day around people you love, you couldn’t wait to come back home to your dickhead roommate.

Obviously you’d rather die than admit that to him, already picturing that trademarked smirk plastered on his tattooed face, but you can’t deny that something about him is charming. He’s smug and sarcastic and cocky and annoying and- you could really go all day to be honest; but then he has those moments where he can take the air right out of your lungs. Sweet, kind little gestures where this big scary bad guy acts like a total gentleman and it makes your heart race.

You doubt you’ll ever understand how he has that hold over you.

The sound of the door creaking open is your only warning before Sukuna steps into the freezing apartment, pink bangs damp and disheveled falling over his forehead and snow clinging to his black leather boots. He shrugs off his coat with a fluid motion, tossing it onto the stair rail as he fixes you with a sharp grin, flashing his canines mischievously.

“Didn’t think you’d actually beat me back here,” he drawls, a sarcastic lilt in his tone, “Guess you couldn’t go a day without missing my charming personality.”

You roll your eyes, breath puffing out in a faint cloud as you speak, “Missed that loud mouth, you mean.”

“Cute.” Although the word is borderline dripping in sarcasm, you still manage to catch the way a smile subtly tugs at the corner of his lips.

“I don’t suppose you’re any good with fixing heaters?” You ask hopefully, Trying to suppress a shiver as you motion toward the uncooperative thermostat.

He raises a brow, kicking off his boots and stepping into the living room, “The fuck do I look like, an HVAC guy? Just call the landlord.”

“I did,” You flop back against the couch with a defeated thump, tossing an arm over your face, “No one can come out ’til tomorrow, holidays or whatever.”

Sukuna could literally hear the frustration in your voice as he plops down next to you on the cold leather couch, “Tragic.” His tone is teasing, but his crimson eyes linger on your shivering form; with an over dramatized huff puffing an icy cloud in the air he muses, “Guess you’ll freeze.”

You briskly rub your hands up and down your arms, a futile attempt to warm yourself up, “And you won't?”

He peers down at you, posture completely relaxed despite the icy air and an unimpressed frown on his face, “I don’t get cold.”

You can’t help but let out a snort at his audacity, “Yeah?” You prop yourself up on your elbows to grin up at him, “Same way you don’t get sick?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, letting his back sink into the cool leather cushions of the couch, “That was a fluke.”

“Such a big fat liar,” You tease, elbowing his arm. But the playful jab shifts into curiosity when you notice that his skin is actually warm against your frozen fingers. Without hesitation, you wrap your hand around his tattooed wrist, making him flinch and hiss dramatically

“Fucking christ-”

“You were actually serious?” You interrupt, scrambling upright to press your freezing hands into his arms.

“Yes, I was- fuck, stop touching me holy shit.” He swats your hands away, goosebumps forming on his skin, “How the hell have you not died of frostbite? You a fuckin’ reptile or some shit?”

“Are you a living space heater?” You scoot closer to him, grabbing at his forearms in a desperate attempt to warm yourself up.

“Quit grabbin’ me you fucking weirdo,” He stands abruptly, nearly having to yank his arm out of your desperate grip, rolling his eyes at the pitiful groan of disappointment that escapes your throat, “Just- give me a second, hold on.”

You watch pitifully as he jogs up the stairs, the already freezing cold room feeling so much colder without him sitting next to you, even in the mere seconds that he’s gone. It’s almost embarrassing how you came home early to see him, have missed him and his attitude so much, and then god forbid he walks away this cramped little apartment just feels empty. But within less than a minute you can hear his footsteps thumping down the wooden stairs, a large dark red comforter slung over his arm.

He can’t help but chuckle when he sees your eyes light up, gently shaking his head as he tosses the comforter over your head and watches you scramble to wrap yourself up in it, “How long were you home without considering a fuckin’ blanket?”

“Fuck off.” You mumble as you clutch the blanket in your shaking hands; it isn’t exactly warm, still cool to the touch from sitting on his cold bed, but it’s better than nothing. Shivers still run over your skin as you wrap your arms around yourself.

You can feel the cushions shift under Sukuna’s weight when he sits down on the couch. His eyes peer down to your shivering form laying up against his thigh, silently watching you for a moment as if he’s contemplating something. Without saying a word he squeezes up behind you, wedging himself behind you and pressing his chest against your back. His arm snakes over your torso, pulling you flush against him.

Your body grows stiff in surprise, a pink blush rushing to your cheeks, “What… are you doing?”

“What?” he mumbles, resting his chin on top of your head as if this was the most natural thing in the world, “Not allowed to do something nice? Quit complaining.”

You can hear that signature smirk in his voice even without seeing his face, but the warmth radiating from him is undeniable. His arm tightens around your waist to anchor you to him and you could swear that he had heat radiating off of his chest, flooding into your cold skin and seeping through the blanket to chase away the chill that so stubbornly clings to your skin.

Hopefully he can’t hear the way your heart is pounding.

And although you’re grateful for the comforter wrapped around you, you’re silently cursing it for putting a barrier between you and Sukuna. You need more, need him impossibly closer to you, to wrap yourself up in his embrace and tighten your arms around him. You squirm in his grasp to try and free your arms, and an empty cold immediately strikes you when he releases you within a millisecond, parting himself from you and shoving his back into the cushions of the couch.

“Shit, I’m-”

You unintentionally cut him off when you turn around to face him, slinging the deep red comforter over his tensed up body. From this angle you can see his face and he looks… surprised? For the briefest moment you could catch a look of panic in his eyes before he settled, eyes widened and his mouth dropped open into a small oh. As if he wasn’t the one who started this, but he’s silent as his apology is caught in his throat.

You tilt your head down and grip your fingers onto his waist, attempting to pull him back to you, “Why are you all the way over there? Come back.”

It takes him a moment, like he's trying to process what you'd said, before he shifts closer to press his body firmly against yours. You bury your head into the warmth of his chest where you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and your thigh finds a comfortable space to slot between his legs. His arms wrap around you again, but this time he holds you closer like he's trying to keep you locked against him, caging you against his strong torso in a way that feels almost possessive.

But it's so nice, the protective hold in his arms feels so warm and comfortable; and not just because of the temperature difference. You'd be lying if you said you'd never imagined yourself wrapped up with him, but never in any of your guilty daydreams did it ever feel so intimate. You and Sukuna have never been quite this close to each other, usually sharing nothing more than passive aggressive elbow jabs while trying to share the bathroom sink in the mornings, or maybe the occasional moment where he'll grab your hand in his when he sees you're about to trip and his touch lingers just a little too long.

But now you’re wrapped up in him, the smell of cologne on his neck embracing your senses with a warm woody scent, the heat of his body dripping onto your skin until your shivers finally come to a stop. Your racing heart slows to a steady pace and you let your eyes fall shut for a while, enjoying the peaceful quiet sounds of his breathing and his steady heartbeat.

The two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of the old apartment and the distant hum of wind outside. Sukuna’s warmth envelops you completely, seeping into your chilled bones in a way that no blanket ever could.

“Better now?” His voice is low, almost a rumble in his chest, and you feel the vibrations against your cheek where it rests against him.

“Much.” You admit quietly, your breath tickling his neck.

“Good. Maybe now you won’t freeze to death.” He mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. His tone is softer, almost fond, and his hand begins to draw lazy circles over your back.

You glance up at him, his face just inches from yours. His crimson eyes are half-lidded, his usual smirk softened into something gentler. You rarely see him like this, but lately you’ve been witnessing it more and more; he’s relaxed, unguarded. It’s a side of him that’s both unfamiliar and heart-achingly endearing.

“You’re awfully cozy for someone who didn’t want to be touched.” You tease, tilting your head slightly to study his reaction.

He scoffs, his cheeks darkening just enough to make you wonder if he’s blushing, “Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d be this pathetic about it. Consider it a favor.”

“A favor?” You raise a brow, unable to hide your amused grin.

“Yeah. Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, though his arm tightens around you ever so slightly.

Despite his words, you can feel the contradiction in the way he holds you, his grip firm and unyielding as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. And you can’t help but wrap your arms around him tighter, hoping this so called favor doesn’t have to end.

“You’re warm.” You mumble, almost to yourself.

“Don’t get all sentimental on me,” His voice is a low warning, but it lacks any real edge.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you says a word. The air feels heavy, charged with something unspoken yet undeniable. His eyes flicker down to your lips for the briefest second, and your breath catches in your throat.

“You’re staring.” He mumbles, but he doesn’t look away.

“So are you.” You whisper softly.

The tension between you grows, fragile yet electric, until finally, he huffs and shifts his gaze away, breaking the spell, “Go to sleep, idiot. You’ll need it for when the landlord shows up tomorrow.”

Despite the abrupt shift, his tone carries no real harshness, and the arm around your waist stays securely in place. You press your cheek against his chest once more, unable to resist a small smile.

“Fine.” You whisper, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax fully into his warmth.

He doesn’t say anything, but the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear is answer enough. Whatever this moment between the two of you is, you’ll take it for now, tucked in his arms as the cold world outside fades away.

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!! And thank you to everyone who has been so kind and supportive and patient with me during my writers block <3 I don’t think I’m fully back quite yet but I’ve made massive progress and I’m hopeful that I’ll be writing regularly again soon :) Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

#remember when I said I wasn’t gonna write a full fic and it was gonna be a drabble?#I fully expected this to be 500 words I am so serious #but instead this is one of the longer ones of the series ASSKKSLS #MERRY CHRISTMAS TEAM!!!#roommate Sukuna au #nav ryomen sukuna #my writing #jjk #jujustu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk modern au

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